Moondance
by lamborambo
Summary: Oliver and Felicity go to the opening of a new art museum. Throw together lots of unresolved tension, a beautiful dress, and some Michael Bublé induced romance, and you've got yourself an evening. Non season specific. This is my first one, so please tell me what you think. T to be safe.


Moondance

As they pulled up to the entrance of Starling City's newest art museum, Oliver looked out to his right and sighed heavily. The wide marble staircase that led up to the museum was draped in a rich red carpet, and on that carpet were dozens of photographers, reports, and worst of all, paparazzi, all swarming around to get the best shot of the many finely dressed celebrities and wealthy citizens making their way inside the museum for its grand opening. He always hated events like this, but as one of the "upstanding and wealthy" he was expected to make an appearance, however terrible it might be. Looking away from the unpleasantness that awaited him, he glanced to his left and began to smile. Felicity sat in the back seat of the car with him, and although she had graciously agreed to accompany him for the evening, she looked slightly nervous at the prospect of what she had gotten herself into.

"Hey," said Oliver, reaching his hand over to cover hers. "You alright?"

Felicity let out a surprised gasp and jumped when his hand landed on hers, her head whipping around so fast he was worried that she might've given herself whiplash.

"Yeah, I'm uh, I'm ok." said Felicity, a little breathily. "Guess I'm a little more nervous than I thought."

"You're going to be fine," said Oliver, dropping his voice a little as he leaned in closer to her. "And anyway, we've done this sort of thing before, so it's nothing new."

"Yeah, well," she mumbled, looking down at her lap. "We were always on a mission when we did this type of thing. And I also never had to worry about spilling wine on your dress. Well, my dress, but you bought it, so that technically makes it your dress, but you don't wear dresses, and even if you did, you definitely couldn't fit in this one because you're so much bigger and. . . oh God, just kill me now," she said in a rush, her face turning a deeper shade of scarlet the longer she rambled on. She had also taken her hand from Oliver's at some point during her rambling and was covering her eyes with both of them.

"Felicity," said Oliver with a little laugh, bringing down her hands to expose her still scarlet face. "It's not that big of a deal. We just have to go in, shake a few hands, make a little small talk, and clap when we need to, and then we can leave. Piece of cake."

"Well, if you say so." said Felicity, still looking deeply embarrassed.

At that moment Oliver's door opened and a world of garbled words, camera clicks, and laughter penetrated the previously quiet back seat of the Bentley that Digg had driven them in that night. Stepping out of the car he looked towards Diggle who was standing behind the now open door, looking every inch the professional driver with his immaculately tailored Armani suit and calm demeanor, with the exception of the little shit eating grin that was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Good luck man," said Digg in his deep voice, barely holding back a chuckle. "By the looks of things, you're going to need it here in a few seconds."

Oliver glanced to his right, and sure enough, several of the reporters and photographers had seen him get out of the car and were headed his way in a hurry.

"Here we go." mumbled Oliver under his breath as he turned back towards the open car door. He offered his hand to Felicity, who he was just beginning to see as she scooted as gracefully as she could closer to the open door. When she finally took his hand he felt a slight zing go up his arm and all the way to the back of his neck, where he was pretty sure the hairs would have been standing up if not for his shirt and suit.

As Felicity stepped out of the car, still holding onto his hand, Oliver got his first good view of her in the dress. The dress, which Thea had picked out, was an Escada Sleeveless Ruched-Bust Gown that fit Felicity like it had been specifically designed for her. The skirt was long and trailed all most all the way to the ground, the silky material flowing, almost water-like, clinging tight to her every curve, but not to the extent of being indecent, except the neckline and back, both of which had deep V's and exposed a generous amount of her pale skin. The back came to a close about eight inches below her shoulder blades, and the front closing off almost a foot below her collarbones. It was beautiful, simple, yet sophisticated, much like Felicity, and it was green. Almost the exact shade of green that he wore every night protecting the city, and whether Thea had just guessed with the color, or Felicity had requested it he would never know, but what he did know was that seeing Felicity in such a dress of that color, his color, stirred feelings inside him that he wasn't quite sure he knew how to deal with. That, coupled with the sudden electricity he had felt when she had taken his hand left him momentarily unable to do anything but stare at her, slightly open-mouthed.

"What?" she asked, her brows furrowing slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong." he said, lowering his voice as he leaned in closer towards her. As the photographers closed in on them, making a tight circle of flashing lights and incoherent questions he put his right hand reassuringly on her right hip and started leading her through the crowd. "You look beautiful, by the way."

He saw her turn her head towards him and smile brightly as they continued walking, the flashes of cameras and the sounds of voices becoming more frequent and incessant and more people started to recognize that he had showed up.

"Thanks," she said, leaning closer to be heard, still smiling. "You clean up pretty good yourself."

"Are you sure you can walk in heels up some stairs and complement me at the same time?" he retorted jokingly, looking at her to see her reaction.

"Oh, shut up." she replied darkly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Oliver couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, which made her hit his chest with the back of her hand to try and get him to stop. This only furthered his laughter, which caused her cheeks to flush red again.

When they had finally reached this inside of the museum and escaped the horde of media correspondents, Oliver was struck by the magnitude of the event. There were already over a hundred people milling about in the main room, talking and laughing over the sounds of soft playing music, which was coming from a large band in one corner of the room. In the other corner was a bar, where a queue had already formed to get drinks. All around the walls of the room hung paintings, the majority of which, Oliver guessed, were very old, very expensive (even by his standards), and painted by people whose names he didn't know and probably couldn't pronounce.

"Thank goodness this is mainly Renaissance and Romantic art, not Modern art." said Felicity as they started walking further into the room.

"You know what this stuff is?" asked Oliver, confusion evident in his voice. "I thought you went to MIT for, um, computer stuff."

"Yeah, well, I did, but I took Art History as an elective sort of fun class. I've always liked art." she said, still gazing around the room at all of the different paintings.

"Ah," replied Oliver simply, remembering how little he actually knew about Felicity. He still knew almost nothing about her life before he met her for the first time with a terrible lie, a bullet-ridden laptop and a smile, but the things he knew about her he made sure to remember. Breaking out of his train of thought he asked, "Would you like me to get you a drink?"

"Umm, sure." said Felicity after turning away from a particular painting and looking up at him, her eyes landing on his. "I'll have a-"

"Red wine." he finished for her. Grinning at the surprised smile she was wearing he said, "I'll get the drinks and be right back. You enjoy yourself and have a look around."

Oliver turned to his left to head towards the bar, and as he did, he unintentionally dragged his hand, which had been on her hip ever since she had gotten out of the car, across her low back and almost to her other hip. The feeling he had felt earlier instantly traveled the same path, but this time it was much stronger than a zing, and more like a bolt of electricity. When he realized what he was doing he quickly pulled it away, hoping that she hadn't noticed it. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at Felicity, but she hadn't moved, so he guessed that she hadn't. Letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, he made his was to the bar, moving in and out of the other patrons in the museum.

When he finally reached the bar and had ordered a glass of red wine he turned around to lean against the bar and stare out into the crowd. After a few seconds of staring he realized that he had been unconsciously scanning the room for Felicity, who had moved closer to the wall to get a better view of the painting that had interested her earlier. As he watched her his thoughts wandered back to when his hand had drifted lazily across her back as he was leaving. Looking down at his right hand, he thought about how natural it had felt against her hip, how right it had seemed to feel there, how good the material of the dress had felt, and how he could still feel the heat of her skin on his palm. Still looking down at his palm, he began to think back on all of the times he could remember that he had touched her, a friendly hand on her shoulder, her elbow, and sometimes her low back, helping her in some way. Sure, he had touched her several times before tonight, but he had never felt anything like that before. Had he? Had touching her always elicited such a reaction from him, but he had just never felt it before because he was blinded by other feelings? He was so confused and caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the bartender was back with her drink until he had called his name for a second time.

"Mr. Queen?" said the bartender, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Your drink, sir," and he handed Oliver the glass of wine.

"Oh, thank you." said Oliver. He took the glass in his left hand, and, using his right, fished out a folded bill from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to the bartender, not even bothering to get his change. Switching the glass to his right hand, he checked the watch on his left wrist a saw that he had been gone for almost twenty minutes. Startled at this, he headed back in the same direction he came from to find Felicity. As he was walking back through the crowd to where Felicity had been he caught sight of her, and he could see that she was no longer alone, but in the company of a man he did not know and he was standing much to close to her for his liking. Quickening his pace so that he reached her sooner, he saw that the man was tall, with long dark hair and a smug, self-satisfied looks on his face, but what worried him the most was that he carried himself with an air of self-importance and vanity; much the same way that Oliver had carried himself before the island. Deciding on the spot that Felicity shouldn't be around that man any longer, Oliver agilely stepped around an elderly woman who was moving slower than humanly possible, and in two long strides was at her side.

"Felicity," Oliver said, a little louder than he normally would have said if she were alone. Not only did this get Felicity's attention, but it also effectively cut off whatever the man had been saying to her.

"My hero!" exclaimed Felicity as she turned her back completely on the stranger so that she was facing Oliver. Oliver handed her the wine glass and she took a sip from it. "What took you so long? I thought you had gotten lost?"

Oliver chuckled and shook his head. "Not lost, just delayed. Either the bartender is extremely incompetent or he took his sweet time in getting the wine. Now that I think about it, I shouldn't have tipped him as much as I did."

"You shouldn't have tipped him at all." interjected the man in a lazy drawl, positively dripping with superiority. "If the servers don't perform up to our standards then they don't deserve anything from us." he continued. "Simple as that."

Oliver looked up over Felicity's head at the man who hadn't moved since Oliver arrived. When their eyes met, the man extended his right hand, expecting Oliver to shake it.

"I'm Damien Daggett," said the man. "And you are?"

"Leaving." said Oliver in his least pleasant, non-Arrow voice. Turning to walk away, he placed his right hand on Felicity's shoulder and began to lead her away through the crowd.

"See you another time, Felicity?" said the man, still in his drawl.

Before Oliver could turn around a say anything remotely frightening to the man Felicity turned her head and looked over her left shoulder and said "Nope."

Oliver's jaw dropped. Felicity, who was always the positive, cheerful, and most lighthearted member of the group just completely turned the man down and more effectively crushed his pride than anything Oliver could have said or done. Still gawking at her as they continued their path through the crowd he realized that his mouth was hanging wide open, which he promptly remedied, but a smile was still plastered on his face.

"Thank God you showed up! I was beginning to think you had left and then I would've ben stuck with him for the entire time." Felicity said once they had come to a stop.

Turning to look at her, he smiled even wider.

"It sounds as if you didn't like the guy. Why, what wasn't to like about him, hmm?" Oliver asked sarcastically.

"You mean, besides his terrible voice, above-it-all demeanor, and the fact that he told me three times that we was very rich?" said Felicity, her eyes rolling. "Oh, I forgot something; he was a total ass!"

Oliver laughed at this. Not his fake, billionaire Oliver Queen laugh that was reserved for bad jokes made during meetings and galas, but a genuine, deep, rich laugh that he seldom used since the island.

Oliver began to say something, what about, he didn't know, but as soon as he opened his mouth he heard a voice come over the speakers that had previously been amplifying the band.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention for a moment." said a short, balding, older man who was holding a microphone.

Oliver thought to himself that this person must be the museum director or something like that, so what he was about to say surely had to deal with the museum, something that Oliver wasn't interested in in the slightest. As his thoughts began to wander away from the man with the microphones speech, he suddenly realized that his right hand had drifted downwards from Felicity's shoulder, and was once again on her hip. The thoughts that he had at the bar were immediately brought to the forefront of his mind, and everything else was forgotten. He marveled at how perfectly his hand seemed to fit against her, and he was amazed at how natural it felt for it to be there. Slowly, he began to rub small circles against the back of her hip with his thumb. Almost as soon as he started he felt Felicity go completely rigid next to him. He could tell that she was looking up at him, probably with a shocked expression on her face, but he stayed facing towards the speaker and he continued his ministrations. After five or six seconds Oliver began to wonder if he had made a serious mistake, if he had crossed some definite boundaries that they had been toying with for so long, but as soon as the thoughts entered his mind, he felt Felicity relax into his touch and lean in closer to him, her head coming to rest lightly against his right arm.

In that moment Oliver felt completely at peace and he focused on nothing more than the nonsensical patterns he was tracing on her dress with his thumb, the sounds of her contented breathing and the feelings of electricity that began to race up his arm again. As he continued to rub everywhere he could with his thumb, he thought back on all of the women that had been in his life: Laurel, Sara, Helena, McKenna, and a whole host of others who he couldn't even remember the names of. When he had been with them he had wanted different things from all of them; well, one thing in common between all of them, but never had he wanted a woman, outside of his family, to just be happy and content, which was exactly what he wanted for Felicity in that moment.

"Is that what I really want for her?" thought Oliver, his brows furrowing. A moment later the thought "yes" popped into his head without hesitation. He was once again so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to recognize that the speaker had stopped, and that everyone was applauding. It took Felicity whispering his name to bring him back from his thoughts.

"Oliver, are you alright?" she asked in a hushed and worried tone, her eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." said Oliver. He quickly pulled his had away, this time making sure not to drag his fingers across her low back, no matter enticing it was to do so, and began to applaud, even though he hadn't heard a word of what had just been said.

Apparently, what everyone was applauding was the cutting of a red ribbon, with the ceremonial oversized scissors, that separated the main entrance room from the rest of the museum. With the rest of the museum officially open to the public, many people in the crowd began to move closer to hallway so that they could see more of the museum.

Oliver stayed still for a while, not sure if Felicity would want to go and see more of the museum or not, but as he was starting to ask her, her head whipped around, facing the corner of the room where the band was, which had just started playing a much louder, faster piece than before.

"Oh my gosh, it's him!" squeaked Felicity.

"It's who?" asked Oliver, confused at who could prompt such a reaction from Felicity.

"Michael Bublé!" she said excitedly, her face positively shining with happiness.

"Who's that?" said Oliver.

Felicity's face went from happiness to shocked disbelief mixed in with a little anger so fast that Oliver was momentarily taken aback.

"Oliver!" she shrieked. "How do you not know who Michael Bublé is? He was big even before you were on the island!"

"I don't know, I guess I just never listened to the guy before." said Oliver innocently, putting up his hands in front of him in a mock surrender.

"That is completely inexcusable," she said, pointing her finger at him. "It should be a law that everyone has to listen to him. He has the smoothest, most perfect singing voice ever. And his eyes. . ."

"Ok, I get it, he's good," said Oliver, grumbling.

Felicity immediately retorted, "He's more than good, he's-"

"Perfect." said Oliver flatly, once again finishing her sentence for her.

Felicity gave him one of her signature glares before turning back around to face the band. Almost instantly she started swaying in time to the music, completely entranced in the song.

After listening to the song for a while, Oliver had to admit that the man did have an incredible voice, and the band behind was chock full of extraordinary musicians. The song was loud, brassy, and up-tempo, but as Oliver looked around the room he saw that a few of the patrons who hadn't left to see the rest of the museum were dancing. Turning his attention back to Felicity he saw that she was still swaying to the beat, her blonde hair flowing all around. Instead of her usual ponytail, Felicity had done up her hair so that the ends were in loose curls that hung down past her shoulders, and although her hair was long, it didn't completely cover up the bare skin that was showing, thanks to the V in the back. He didn't realize that he had been staring at opening in her dress until he saw her turn around to face him, her face once again brilliantly bright.

"Oh, I love this song!" she said excitedly, positively bouncing on her heels.

Apparently the first song had ended while Oliver had been staring, once again, at Felicity. The song that was currently being played seemed to be at a somewhat slower pace, and that, mixed in with the thoughts and feelings that had been bombarding him the whole evening pushed him to close the gap that was between them and place both of his hands on her hips.

"Felicity, would you care to dance?" he asked, his voice slightly huskier and deeper than normal, his eyes locked on her brilliantly blue ones, waiting for a response.

Although immediately surprised by his abruptness, Felicity nodded yes and placed her hands cautiously on top of his shoulders.

As soon as he felt her hands land on his shoulders, Oliver smiled and began to sway back and forth to the beat of the song. For a while he just stared at her face, her eyes glued to his, as they danced. He saw that a blush was rising up her neck and slowly creeping over her face.

Felicity abruptly looked away from him, confusion and shame evident on her face.

Stopping immediately Oliver asked, "Are you alright? What's the matter?"

Felicity just shook her head and mumbled, still looking anywhere but at him, "What am I doing Oliver?"

"What do you mean?" answered Oliver, bewilderment in his voice.

"This!" she exclaimed, pointing between at the space between his body and hers. "I'm just a nobody EA who, according to the rumors, slept her way to the top, and now I'm here, dancing with you; dancing with my boss! What will everyone think? What will everyone say?"

Oliver took his hands off of her hips and brought them to either side of her face. Slowly, he brought his hands up so that Felicity was looking directly at him.

"Felicity, listen to me. You know that's not true, and if you were left alone with a computer, everyone here who doubted your character would sure as hell know it wasn't true. Don't you ever sell yourself short. You are a strong, amazing, and beautiful woman that any man here would be lucky to even know, and I get to dance with you." Oliver paused, and then continued a little quieter, "Well, was dancing with. Would you like to stop?"

"No." whispered Felicity quickly, a smile on her face.

"Good." said Oliver, matching her smile with one of his real smiles. He took his hands away from her face and slowly slid them down her arms.

Felicity let out a breathy gasp as his hands traveled downwards, her mouth hanging slightly open. Once his hands had found there way back to her hips, he pulled her in closer than before and started to sway again.

(_Well I wanna make love to ya tonight. I can't wait til' the morning has come.)_

"Have I told you that you look beautiful?" said Oliver, his eyes locking on hers once again.

"Twice." said Felicity, still in a breathy tone.

"Well, I need to say it more often." whispered Oliver, bringing his head down closer to hers.

As he drifted closer to her he placed a small, light kiss on the side of her cheek. Pulling back, he saw and felt a shiver run through her at his words, and he couldn't help the way that his heart leapt at finding out how much he effected her. He also couldn't help the grin that began to form.

Smiling, he looked at her and took in everything he could. Her slightly flushed face had a look of pure surprise on it and her mouth hung open, her bright pink lips forming an almost perfect 'O'. What made the picture for him though were her eyes. Her normally bright blue eyes were wide with surprise, and her pupils were dilated way beyond normal. That more than anything prompted his boldness.

_(Anytime I touch you, you just tremble inside)_

"You do, you know." whispered Oliver.

"I, what?" she whispered back.

_(And I know how much you want me that, you can't hide!)_

"You can't, either." he said, a smile forming at the look of confusion on her face.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What, I thought you loved this song?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow up.

"I do, I just don't know what you're-" she began

Oliver cut her off. "Just listen to the words." he said huskily.

Felicity was looking right at Oliver, the look of confusion still on her face, when suddenly it was replaced by a look of shocked surprise. She let out a small, breathy gasp and looked like she was about to speak when Oliver but her off again.

"Ready?" he asked simply, a gleam in his eyes.

"For what?" she breathed out, her voice barely audible.

"For this." he replied as he slid his left hand up her back, behind her shoulder, and he leaned forward as she dipped back.

Felicity fell effortlessly into the dip, which coincided perfectly with the song as the trumpets blared out an incredibly high note. As the music started to move again Oliver pulled Felicity up and then let go with his left hand, pushing her out with his right hand that had intertwined with hers. Holding the position for just a beat he then pulled her towards him, holding their hands high as she spun twice and came to a stop in front of him, their bodies pressed together and her hands on his chest.

He stayed completely still (mentally thanking his mother for making him take dance lessons as a child) as he took in the sight of Felicity, her face flushed, pressed up against him so tightly he could feel her heartbeat. The silence ended with the music coming back in, the singers' silky voice urging them to dance. As he started to move them again he felt Felicity close her fingers around the lapels of his suit and he barely stifled the noise that threatened to escape. They stayed in that same position, Felicity, flush against him with her hands clutched tightly in his suit and Oliver with his on her waist, for the rest of the song, neither one of them able to tear their eyes away from each other. Oliver continued to sway with the beat, but besides that, everything else around him had faded out of his awareness, his concentration completely on Felicity. In that moment he didn't care who saw him because he was with her and everything just felt right.

As the song started to come to a close, he bent his head down to place a kiss on her cheek again. At that moment though, Felicity had looked up at him and it was too late to change his course. His lips fell on hers lightly and he felt electricity fly through his entire body, making everything tingle. It was an incredible feeling, one that he wanted to feel again and again everyday, but as abruptly as it had began, it ended.

Felicity pulled away with a start, her eyes wide with terror.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean too!" she exclaimed, her face instantly going the darkest shade of scarlet. "I swear I wasn't trying to put the moves on you or anything, I just moved on accident, and I'm so sor-".

Oliver cut her rambling short by pressing his lips on hers again, but this time much harder. He felt her tense beneath him, but as he moved to deepen the kiss, he felt her go loose in his arms and wrap hers around his neck. When he ran his tongue over her lips, she instantly opened them, allowing him access. When oxygen became a necessity, they reluctantly broke apart, both breathing heavily.

"Are you still sorry?" Oliver asked, his voice thick with emotions.

"Not at all." said Felicity instantly.

"Good." he growled, as he pulled her closer to him. The third time their lips met Oliver slid a hand up into her hair so that he could deepen the kiss even further. As they stood in the middle of the dance floor, kissing each other with people all around them and Michael Bublé serenading them, Oliver only had two thoughts. The first was that he was glad he had showed up for the opening, and the second was that he was very, very, out-of-this-world happy that he had asked Felicity to be his plus one.


End file.
